


A Life to Call Our Own

by AnontheNullifier



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Vision searches for a house, i just emotionally needed this, wandavision episode 8 spoiler, with underlying angst because we all know what happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29737464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnontheNullifier/pseuds/AnontheNullifier
Summary: After a long search, Vision discovers the perfect location for his future life with Wanda.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 21
Kudos: 180





	A Life to Call Our Own

**Author's Note:**

> Episode 8 killed me, just gutted me. After seeing the deed, I just needed to write something hopeful and with Vision alive, even if I know after this story everything goes to hell. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little rambling story.

“I think this one’s going to be it.”

Vision remains unconvinced despite the realtor’s optimism. “We shall have to see.”

It’s the fifteenth town they’ve looked at, the thirtieth house, and nothing so far has been perfect. All the blogs online and the pamphlets at the realty office and the conversations with Mary, his persevering and upbeat realtor, have informed him that perfection can rarely be bought, but if he can find a home with good bones and have a can-do attitude, he can make it perfect. This he does not disagree with, at least when it comes to the house, but the town itself cannot be so easily molded and that has led to the disparaging length of the search.

Mary holds up her clipboard, blocking out the afternoon sun, watching him stare at the town’s main square. “Why don’t I go along to the lot and you just get a feel for the place as you mosey on over?”

“Very well.” 

“Okay, take your time.” She gets back into the blue sedan she drove down in and leaves. 

There is a particular atmosphere he is trying to find, a homey, old-fashioned quality. The first place he investigated was New Rochelle, the very location of the van Dyke household, and it was charming in its quaintness and soothing in its familiarity but it was also a tourist trap, signs speaking to its history and a handful of people wandering with cameras to see the house from the show. What Wanda deserves is the feel of a small town, not the exact replica and so he hired Mary and they have discreetly traveled across New York and now, growing desperate, have dipped into New Jersey. To be fair to the realtor, he is not an easy client, quick to determine if the feel of the area is off and speaking to her in the only comparisons he can make based on his knowledge of Wanda’s preferences. Some towns were too Gilmore Girls or not enough Bewitched, others only had one corridor that spoke to Family Ties while the rest felt like a modern city. They’d trudged through areas that felt like the Munsters and others where he knew it would turn into the Twilight Zone simply based on the odd stares and eerie feeling from the facade of happiness in towns long past their prime. 

Vision surveys the current possibility and is not immediately disappointed. The town square houses a gazebo, well kept and inviting with its lattice work and the shrubbery framing the grass around it -an ideal spot for a picnic or a tea during their lunch hour, assuming they try out true domestication of idle employment. Lining the main road are small shops and little restaurants, eclectic in their conglomeration and relatively satisfactory to stroll beside, or so he tests, hands in his pockets and his disguise reflected back to him as he stares into a clothing shop where a mannequin rests in a red, billowy dress Wanda would adore. 

A little spark jumps in his chest as he keeps moseying, the closest approximation to hope he has felt in his search, spurred on by the flower cart overflowing with roses outside a little boutique and the way all the townspeople have either smiled or waved at him when their eyes briefly lock. Vision is not known for his imagination which is why it is fascinating how easily he can picture walking this street, Wanda’s fingers twined with his, an ice cream cone from the creamery on the corner in her hand, her joy bubbling over as she tells him the latest frivolity of gossip in the town. 

It’s when he turns down the road where Mary is waiting in her car that his synthetic heart begins to whirr at the trees lining the street, their thin leaves shading the few houses that stand with picture perfect porches for a lemonade in the stifling summer sun or a hot chocolate when fall begins to run its frosty fingers in the air. Curious as to their scientific categorization, Vision studies one, his hand running over the grayish bark that ripples with diamond-esque patterns. Slowly, and as inconspicuously as possible, he leans in and sniffs, cataloguing the pungent odor, one that if he was pressed to describe it would be spicy...not one of heat but of the spice that always filled the compound when he and Wanda baked after going to pick apples. The long leaves are pinnately organized, forming couplings that cling to either side of the branch. The final piece that leads to its categorization is the round green seed hanging below a pair of leaves. It is a _Juglan nigra_ , the black walnut and all he can hear in its swaying leaves is the riotous laughter from Wanda as the van Dyke household fills with walnuts. 

Vision smiles, overcome momentarily at the rightness of it all. 

But there is one more determination before he commits to this life, before he decides that this is what he wants to promise Wanda the next time they meet. Apprehensively he approaches the car, tapping on the window to let Mary know he is ready. “What’d you think so far?”

The falsity of her grin should be alarming, yet he knows he is to blame for it, having had to inform her of her failure to find him what he wants dozens of times before . This time, however, he is happy to inform her, “It is quite promising.”

A real, full bodied smile erupts on her face. “Good, because I watched every season of that show just to figure out what it was you wanted.”

“It has been successful so far.”

“Come on.” She leads him down the road about ten feet before waving her arms like one of the women on game shows who is in charge of the grand prize. “Here it is.”

“I, um,” it must be some form of humor he has yet to master because there is no actual house, merely a stretch of grass with a lonely sign declaring _For Sale!_ “Where is the house?”

Her laughter does not allay his discomfort at all, “Based on our search so far and how particular you are,” this is said with a friendly needling that no doubt hides some resentment, “I decided to find you the town and let you build the perfect house.”

The words wash over him, cling to his mind until he can comprehend the meaning. And then he can feel his lips curve up and part into a bliss of possibility. Before him is an empty lot, but in his mind he is already constructing the foundation of their future. After all this business with the Accords he simply wants a quiet life and before him it stands, floor by floor he sees the house form, visualizes himself bringing Wanda home for the first time, scooping her up to carry her across the threshold, her arms tight around his neck. They’ll paint the outside together, argue over the best place for the couch and whether the television should be a focal point. He’ll cook for her in the kitchen as she sits at the counter, informing him of his missteps before they happen. At night they’ll sit on the back porch, under the walnut trees and enjoy the silence of the world revolving. It is everything she had told him about, everything she has quietly smirked at while they watch her favorite shows, thinking he did not see her wistful enjoyment at a life of domestic bliss. 

“I’ll take it.”

“Do you want some time to think?”

“No.” Vision shakes his head for added emphasis. There is a rightness here, an all encompassing hope for what their lives can be. “It is perfect. You can contact Stark Industries for the mortgage information.” Yes, this is where they can finally be together, where they can experience a life so far denied. This is where they’ll grow old together and never want for anything but each other. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, kudos and comments are always appreciated. 
> 
> Now we wait for the finale.


End file.
